Teaching Seth Cohen
by Shelbecat
Summary: A series where Seth learns lessons from Ryan. Here, Ryan tries to teach him to play softball.


**Author's Notes: ** A sister series to _Teaching Ryan Atwood_. Subtle slash.

**Teaching Seth Cohen…  
…About Softball**

"You know, I just really don't see the point."  Seth kicked his toe in the sand and frowned at the dust cloud that settled on his sneakers.  "I mean take me, and then take softball…does that sound like a match to you?"

Ryan shook his head from where he stood 10 feet away and sighed.  "The point is that it's important to your father.  You said you'd try."

"I've been saying I'll try for six years.  He never believed me before."

"Yeah well, I wasn't here before.  This year you're trying."

Seth put on his best _look at me, I'm pathetic_ face and whined.  "But do I have to?"

He stared at Ryan hopefully and watched the other boy push his sunglasses up on his forehead and stare at him.  He'd seen that look before; it was Ryan's _you're being a kid_ look.  Well he didn't care; he wasn't budging.  Softball was something guys like Ryan played; guys who actually had muscles holding their bones together.  If he swung that bat he might crack in two.

He looked up at Ryan again, trying to make him see how ridiculous Seth Cohen and sports looked together.  Ryan was still staring at him.  This was not boding well for a sweat-free afternoon.

"Alright fine!  I'll try the stupid game, I just don't get why you care so much."  Seth groaned and swung the bat around him in a circle.  The weight carried him a few steps off balance.

"I _don't_ care," Ryan interjected.  "But Sandy told me about this game months ago.  It's father-son, Seth.  He's obviously looking forward to it; I think he'd like it if you played."

"I think he'd like it a whole lot better if you played.  I might take someone's eye out if I play."  Seth picked up the bat and held it at arm's length.  "I'm supposed to throw this?"

"What?  No!  You don't throw it!  You just…"  Ryan stopped when Seth smirked.  "You know exactly how to play, don't you?"

Seth shrugged.  "Well I do know that this stick is supposed to hit that ball.  And then if I'm lucky enough to make that happen, because really the laws of physics are working against me, then I run that-a-way."  Seth pointed toward third base.

Ryan pulled his lips into a thin line.

"Kidding, kidding.  First base, that way.  I got it."

"You sure?"

Seth nodded.

Ryan did not look convinced.  "Look.  Worry about running later, first just make contact with the ball."

"With this stick here."

"It's called a bat, but yes.  Don't think about where the ball is going.  Visualize yourself making contact and swing, kay?"

Seth nodded, he got it.  You swung the skinny little stick and hit the impossibly small ball.  Simple.  Easy as brain surgery.

He looked up at Ryan.  The ball was in his hand down by his side.  Oh shit.  He was actually going to throw it!  Ryan's hand swung back slowly, then forward, then he released the ball and it came careening toward him.

Seth screamed and closed his eyes.

"Seth!"

"Is it safe?"  Seth cocked one eye open and glanced around.  "Is it gone?"

"Yes it's gone.  It's on the ground.  Seth…"

"Yes Ryan."  Seth looked up at Ryan expectantly.

Ryan did not look pleased.  He had one hand buried in a glove that was cocked on his hip very threateningly.  In fact, Ryan looked more than not pleased; Ryan looked downright pissed.

"Pick up the ball."

Seth looked down at the ball which had rolled a few feet past him.  He picked it up between his thumb and forefinger.  "This ball?"

"Yes.  That ball.  Now throw it back."

"Throw…" Seth looked down at the ball in his hand.  This was supposed to be about hitting the ball with the stick…not throwing anything (especially not the stick).  He looked back at Ryan who was staring at him expectantly.

He was supposed to throw the ball.  Ryan wanted him to throw the ball.  He could throw the ball.  He could.  It was easy.

He pulled his hand back up over his head and pushed the ball forward with all his might.  It flew through the air, sailing smooth as a bullet towards it target.  Seth started to smile.

Then the ball dropped from the sky two feet in front of him.

He looked from the ball up to Ryan and back to the ball again.  "Well that ended well."

Ryan shook his head and jogged towards the ball.  He scooped it off the ground and tucked it back into his glove before jogging back out to his original spot.  He never said a word about the pathetic throwing attempt.

Seth thought that was probably for the best.

"Okay.  I'm gonna throw you another pitch.  And this time you aren't going to scream, right?"

Seth kicked his toe in the sand.  "Dude, I totally didn't scream."

"Dude?"  Ryan repeated.  "You sounded like a girl."

Seth's cheeks flushed a deep crimson.  "Well that's just because I'm in touch with my feminine side.  You should try it sometime.  Brings you closer to the ladies."

Ryan shook his head and held up the ball again.  "I'm gonna throw it.  Keep your eyes open."

Seth swallowed thickly and placed the bat back against his shoulder.  Okay, eyes open, no screaming.  He could do this.  That ball was small, miniscule.  It wasn't going to hurt him.  He was stronger than the ball.  He would hit the ball.

He watched Ryan pull his hand back again and release the ball.  His stomach lurched as the ball flew toward him.  It was coming too fast, it was too close.  It was going to hit him!

He pushed the bat out in front of him to ward off the attack.  The ball bounced off the tip of the bat and flew back towards his body.  It hit his arm and finally fell to the ground.

"Ow!"  Seth looked up at Ryan questioningly.  "It hit me!  Why did it hit me?"

"It didn't hit you.  You hit it."  Ryan jogged in to where Seth stood.  "You almost had it that time.  You made contact."

"Yeah, with my body."  Seth dropped the bat in the sand.  "Forget it, this is pointless.  I'm never going to learn how to play softball.  My Dad accepts this, I accept this.  Come on Ry, just accept this.  You'll be much happier."

Ryan frowned and leaned down to pick up the bat and ball.  He bounced the ball in his hand and stared off toward the parking lot.

"Come on."  He started walking off the field.

"We're leaving?"  Seth followed behind readily.  "I knew you'd see it my way once you saw me play.  I just wasn't built for sports.  Sports requires a certain eye-hand coordination that just doesn't interest me.  I much prefer the eye-mouth coordination.  Admit it, I'm good at it."

Ryan just shook his head and kept walking.  Seth followed him off the field and along the sidewalk toward the parking lot.  They were almost at the car when Ryan veered and starting walking back into the sports complex.

He panted as he ran to catch up.

"Where are we going?  To the snack bar?  I've bet they've got a kick-ass snack bar.  Hot dogs and popcorn and candied apples."  Seth felt his stomach rumble at the thought of a foot-long hot dog with onions and hot peppers.

"No snack bar.  We're going to the batting cages."

"The what?  The cages?"  Seth skipped forward to walk next to Ryan and stared at the boy.  "What exactly about this _fun_ sport includes the use of cages?  Cages do not sound fun.  Cages sound like torture.  I'm not good with torture."

Ryan stepped up to a chain-link enclosure and opened a gate in the 'cage'.  He smiled at Seth as he waved him inside.

Seth gulped and felt his stomach prematurely reject the imaginary hot dog.

He stepped inside and stopped as he heard Ryan clang the gate shut behind him.  They were trapped in the cage.  In the cage that had four walls _and a roof_ made of chain link fence!  There was no way out, except for the gate, but Ryan was securely guarding that, and Seth didn't think he'd make it past Ryan in one piece.

He looked around the trap frantically.  There had to be a way.  A back exit.  Then he saw the beast and froze.

"What…is that?"

"What?"  Ryan stepped up to the huge metal contraption in the center of the cage.

"That…that monster.  What is it?"  Seth looked back at the gate.  He could make it.  If he timed it so that Ryan wasn't looking.  But then Ryan would chase him.  And then he'd probably lock him in here alone.

It was hopeless.

"This…" Ryan was saying.  "Is a ball machine.  It'll help you learn."

"How in the name of David Justice is that going to help me learn?"

"David Justice?"

"What?  He was married to Halle Berry.  I read People."

"Right."  Ryan shook his head.  "It pitches balls for you, so all you have to do is stand there and hit them."

"And how is that different from you throwing them at me?"

"Because now I can help you hit them.  Come here."

Seth gulped and followed Ryan's direction to stand beside the plate.  He let Ryan place the bat in his hands and kept as still as possible as Ryan prodded him to bend just slightly at the knees.

He almost fell over from the strain when Ryan jogged back to the machine.

He pressed a button and then ran back, sealing his chest to Seth's back.  Seth swallowed hard.  His heart thumped in his throat as Ryan's hands settled next to his on the bat.

They were one being.  Two individuals working as one solid unit.  He felt enhanced somehow; like Ryan's power was coursing through his body, pulsing in his veins.

He suspected it had something to do with the throbbing in his pants.

The evil machine made a whirring sound and Ryan tensed behind him.  Seth felt the throbbing increase.

Then a ball came shooting toward them and Seth felt his arms swinging outwards without his control.  The bat connected solidly with the ball.  A sharp crack rung in his ears.  The ball soared up over the machine and clanged against the far wall of the cage.

He saw everything and felt nothing.  Except for the absence of Ryan's body against his.

"See, you did it."

"Uh…umm…yeah, yeah I…I hit it…I…"

Ryan laughed and stepped back in as the machine whirred back to life.  "One more and then you fly solo."

Oh, he'd be flying solo alright.  Tonight, he'd be flying solo twice.

The ball repeated its attack on the symbiotic couple and Seth tried hard to concentrate as Ryan moved his arms once again.

It was pointless.  He stopped swinging long before Ryan did.  The ball would have flown right past him, or else hit him out of spite.  When he let Ryan take control, they hit it dead on.  The ball took flight across the cage again, a repeat of the prefect arc.

He shivered as Ryan stepped away again.

"Get ready, the next one's coming."

Seth swallowed and gripped the bat tightly on his shoulder.  It felt heavier without Ryan, like he couldn't even hold it up.  The machine whirred and a ball came charging towards him.  He remembered not to stop the swing early, keep going, just like Ryan.

He caught the top of the ball and it slammed forcefully down into the ground.

"Oh, damn.  Sorry man.  I'm trying, I…"

"Seth!  You hit it!  That's good."

"_That_ is good?  It looks pathetic."

"_That_ is a bunt."

"What, like a cake?"

"A what?"

Seth shook his head.  "Never mind.  A bunt.  I did a bunt."

Ryan smiled.  "Well you bunted the ball.  I don't think you actually _do_ a bunt, but yeah, you hit it."

The machine whirred and another ball came flying towards Seth.  He jumped out of the way just in time.

"The machine hates me Ry."

"It does not hate you.  It's a machine.  Now try again.  Hit it this time."

"Hang on, what exactly is a bunt first?  I wanna try that again."

"You can't try it again, they're going to expect it."

"Who?  The machine?"

Ryan shook his head and jogged over to the machine just as it was preparing its next assault.  Mercifully he turned it off and the whirring stopped.

"Thank God."  Seth flopped down in the dirt.  "I thought it would never die."

Ryan walked back over to Seth and stood above him.  His hands were on his hips and when Seth looked up, Ryan was framed by the sun.  He looked…he looked hot.  Seth felt his pants throb again.

"Listen."  Ryan crouched down with his hands between his knees.  "You've got to try hitting the ball for real if you're gonna play."

Seth sighed and tipped his head back to stare at the caged roof.  "Why can't I just bunt again?  I'm all down with the bunting.  Less effort equals less sweating.  Less sweating is good."

"Because softball is all about hitting the ball, bunting is just something you do to mix things up.  Surprise them."

Seth looked back up, intrigued.  "So it's like misdirection."  This baseball thing was tricky, lots of chances to mess up the other team's game.  He sort of liked it!

"Yeah, I guess so.  You've just got to hit it."

"Right.  Hitting the ball, yes."

"Okay, so we're going to try again?"

Seth flung his body back to lie in the sand.  "I don't know if I can.  I think I have heat stroke."

He knew Ryan was trying to act pissed, but the growl that came out of his throat sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"You have to learn this.  Your Dad's counting on you."

Seth tipped his head up to stare at Ryan.  "Couldn't he just count on you?"

"No.  You're playing.  It'll be cool."

"It'll be tragic."

"Come on."  Ryan hit his foot lightly.  "Get up and we'll hit 10 more balls."

"10?"  Seth rolled over and rested his head on his arm.  "I don't think I can make it.  I need nourishment."

"10 balls then we'll get nourishment."

"Nourishment then I'll hit 20 balls."

Ryan's eyes widened.  "20?  Deal."

Seth smiled and pushed himself off the ground.  "I think I'm gonna get a hot dog to start, then some chili fries, and maybe a sundae."

Ryan picked up their equipment in the corner and followed Seth from the cage.

"And I think they have really good popcorn here, not that I've ever tried their popcorn here, or really, ever been here before.  But still, I think a softball place should have good popcorn.  It's like a rule."

Ryan laughed and kept up with Seth's suddenly rejuvenated pace.

"So we're going to eat the snack bar out of food, then you're gonna hit another 20 balls, right?"

Seth pulled open the door to the snack bar and gestured Ryan inside.

"Well I'm going to bunt half of them, but yeah, they shall be hit."

Ryan frowned as the door swung closed.  "For every ball you bunt, you're running around the bases."

"Ryan!  What?  We did not discuss running!  I never agreed to any running.  Hitting yes.  Bunting, hell yeah.  But running, no, no running.  Have you seen what heat does to my hair?  Add running to that and I'll be a walking Mop Top Hair Shop.  I swear Ryan.  You can't make me run.  I'll hit, but no running."

Ryan wasn't listening to him.  He was at the counter ordering an insane amount of food.  There was no way he was going back out there to run laps.  No one said anything about running laps.  He'd agreed to play softball, not the Boston Marathon.

He tapped Ryan firmly on the shoulder.

"I'm not running."

"Mmm-hmm.  Can I get extra onions on the hamburger?"

"And I'm not breaking into a sweat just for some softball game."

"Uh-huh.  And a Coke.  You want Mountain Dew?  One Mountain Dew."

"You're not listening to me.  I'm not running.  I won't run.  I won't play!"

Ryan paid for the food and moved toward a table.  It was hopeless.  He was playing softball and Ryan was doing nothing to help him.

Well except teach him.  He'd enjoyed the teaching.

He sat down at the table.  "Alright fine, I'll play, but it's under extreme duress."

"Sure.  Eat your food, it's getting cold."

Seth stuffed his hot dog into his mouth.  "Slave driver."

_The End._


End file.
